by J. Saman
Almost too big for one person.
The exterior is a nice, deep gray without being too dark, and the front door is a brick red, which contrasts nicely. There is a large front porch with two white rocking chairs and a swinging bench off to the right of the door.
We pull into the driveway and the second he turns off the car, I have to get out of it. I can feel the weight of his stare on me, and I don’t know what to do with his eyes looking at me like that.
The neighborhood is exclusive. Expensive. And since we’re raised up, the views of Puget Sound and the Olympic Mountains in the distance are phenomenal.
Like holy crap, multi-million-dollar view, phenomenal.
He pulls a small keychain that I’ve never seen before out of his pocket, thumbs through the two keys on it and inserts one into the front door. He’s been silent since we got in the car and right now, the nervous energy is flowing off him in waves.
Or maybe that’s just me—hard to tell, really.
The lock disengages with a satisfying click, and he opens the door to what is quite possibly the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen.
Gleaming, wide-plank, medium-tone hardwood floors are the first thing you notice, and they seem to stretch through the entire house. Off to the left is a massive living room with comfortable looking couches, an intentionally distressed coffee table, two chairs—both the softest looking leather I’ve ever seen—and a giant flat screen television placed above the mantle of a gorgeous stone fireplace. Behind the living room is an open-concept dining area with a table that can seat at least eight.
On the right side of the room is a large office space that can be closed off by sliding glass doors, and beyond that appears to be another spacious sitting room of sorts, and even farther back is a sizable four season sunroom.
The kitchen is—well it’s my dream kitchen, that’s for sure.
It’s huge, with the longest center island I’ve ever seen, topped with Carrera marble above some type of stained wood cabinet that complement the flooring perfectly. The fixtures are all very contemporary and top of the line, including an eight burner gas stove, double ovens, massive side by side refrigerator, and even a wine refrigerator with two separate zones—one for red and one for white.
Yes, I checked it out, how could I not?
Behind the kitchen is an extensive deck with more of those amazing views, and since it’s a sunny day, the whole house seems to be filled with warm natural light. Everything is sort of open and cool and modern chic, yet comfortably contemporary. It’s all so very Ryan, and I can only imagine how much this place costs him every month.
I don’t linger in any room long, desire and curiosity to explore the entire house taking over.
The upstairs is more of the same hardwood floors leading into three bedrooms, all a good size except for the master, which is easily twice the size of the other two bedrooms.
There are windows with unobstructed views of the sound and mountains off to one side, a ginormous king-sized bed with a low profile fabric headboard, and on the far side of the room is a broad, distressed dresser. The walk-in closet is twice the size of my old bedroom in Boston, and what could only be described as the most fan-fucking-tastic bathroom ever finishes off the space.
Warm strong arms wrap around my waist as I stare almost blankly out the window at the view I could easily see myself looking at for the rest of my life.
“What do you think?” Ryan asks, his nose gliding shamelessly through my hair to my neck.
“I think it’s beautiful.”
“I think you’re beautiful,” he says, nuzzling into me, my body automatically melting into him. “What are you in the mood for, love?”
I shrug a shoulder. “Did you want to go and check out your new neighborhood?”
“Sure. We could find the best places to eat and grocery stores. Crap like that. Or I could take you out to see what the city has to offer? Since we’re here an extra day early, we have more time before I have to get back to the real world.”
“Whatever you want to do, Ryan. It’s your new home.”
“It could be your new home as well.”
“I know.”
He leaves it at that, taking my hand and leading me outside. We end up standing on the sidewalk in front of his house. “Now what?” he asks with a chuckle.
“Dude, you’re the computer guy. Look it up,” I smirk.
He pokes me in the ribs, and then after punching something into his phone, we set off, heading down the street and to the right. We end up on a main street that is filled with restaurants, shops, and a high-end natural grocery store.
“You hungry, Katie?” he asks as we stop in front of a Thai place.
“Stupid question, my friend. I’m always hungry. Lead on.”
“Have I told you that Thai food is my favorite?” he asks after we’re seated in the nicer-than-expected restaurant.
“You have not, and I feel a little shortchanged that I’m just finding this out now, after living in a car with you for more than three weeks.”
He laughs, taking a sip of his water. “What’s yours?”
“Seriously?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.
“What? You never said something specific, just that you liked everything.”
“Fine. I guess if I had to pick a favorite I’d say tapas.”
“Really?” he asks, surprised.
“Yeah. There was this restaurant in Boston. Holy hell. The food was amazing. Like straight from Spain amazing. Eric and I used to try and go there on date nights a lot, but it was a tiny place and one could not make reservations, so if you went, you waited. Not the best when you have a toddler at home with a babysitter.”
“No,” his eyes widen as he thinks about this. “I image not.”
“But yeah, I love Spanish tapas.”
“Would you ever want to go?”
“Where?”
“To Spain?”
I snort. “To Spain?” I repeat, a little surprised by his question. “Sure. I’d love to travel the world a bit. Never really had the chance.”
“But you do now.” Why does he have to sound so sad when he says that?
I nod in agreement. “I do. And I suppose I also have the means, but I’m not about to do it. It’s the sort of thing I’ve always wanted to do with someone. Not alone.”
“So if I said I’d like to travel the world with you, you would say…” he trails off tilting his head at me.
“I would say you don’t like to fly an hour, let alone several, so I’m not sure how feasible that is.”
“They have drugs I could take. You’re avoiding my question, Katie.”
I am. Damn his observant ways. “Of course I would love to explore the world with you, Ryan. Wanting to be with you isn’t the issue here.”
“Ah. So you admit there is an issue then?”
I sigh, rubbing my hands up and down my face. I don’t want to have this discussion now. I want to enjoy the day with him.
“You want to do this now?” I ask through my hands.
“That depends on how the conversation is going to turn out.” He’s silent for so long that I drop my hands and look at him. “When do you plan to leave?” He knows. I hate that he knows, and yet I’m a little relieved at the same time.
“Tomorrow?” I sit back in my chair, taking a sip of my water because my mouth is so freaking dry suddenly.
“And where do you think you’ll go?”
“I’m not sure exactly.”
“Are you still looking for a place you want to move to?” He’s so stoic and reserved that I can’t read him. I can’t tell where this is going.
“No.” It’s the truth. I’m not. I just need…
“So you’ve found a place you think you want to move?” He’s leaning back in his chair too, but his arms are folded across his chest, hard and unrelenting in their power and the way they keep us at a distance. Or maybe they’re just pr
otective.
“I think so.”
“And it’s not here? With me?” His tone is growing austere. Angry even.
Don’t do this, Ryan. Not yet.
“I didn’t say that,” I protest quickly. “I didn’t. I just need—”
“More time,” he finishes for me, annoyed.
I nod. “Yes.”
“So was that whole “I love you too” thing bullshit? A way to keep me calm on the plane?”
“No,” I say, shocked and indignant that he’d go there. “Of course not.”
“So you’re saying that you love me, you just can’t be with me?”
Fuck. “Not right now, no.”
“But you think maybe someday?” He’s so pissed. I don’t blame him, but still. It’s hard to hear and hard to see, and hard to handle.
The waiter interrupts us and we place our orders, though my appetite is almost completely gone. When he leaves, I can see Ryan is waiting for my answer.
So I guess he does want to do this now.
“I love you, Ryan. I do. So much.” His harsh expression doesn’t alter because he can feel the but coming. “But you said it yourself on the plane. Mrs. Taylor. In my mind I’m still married to Eric, and I don’t know how to shut that off. I don’t know how to reconcile loving two men and how that works. How to love you the way you deserve while not betraying Eric or his memory.” I’m wringing my fingers in my lap.
“Katie,” he leans forward, his features softening, which is not what I expected. “I understand that you still love Eric. I expect you always will. I’m not asking to replace him, sweetheart. I’m just asking for you to give us a chance and see where it goes.”
“I know. I know that,” I’m nodding.
“But you’re still not ready.”
I shake my head no.
“Will you ever come back?” he swallows hard and so do I.
“I don’t know, Ryan. I’d love to say yes. I’d love to tell you that my world will all make sense again in a matter of weeks and that we’ll live happily ever after, but I can’t make that promise, and I can’t ask you to wait for me while I work out my fucked up mind.”
“And if I want to wait for you?”
“Ryan—”
“No, Katie,” he snaps, interrupting me. “Don’t you think that’s my choice? Don’t you think I should get to choose who to love and how to do it?”
“No one choses who they love.”
“Ah. So you wish you didn’t love me? Is that what you’re saying?” He places his forearms on the table, resting his chest on top of them and killing me with his eyes. “I’m an inconvenience to you and this little voyage of emotional discovery you’ve set yourself on?”
I can’t take this anymore. I just fucking can’t.
Getting up, I walk around the table and as I approach him, he leans back in his seat. I don’t care that we’re in a nice restaurant in the middle of Seattle with people staring at us. I need him to understand.
Climbing onto his lap sideways, I take his face in my hands until he’s forced to look into my eyes.
“That’s not it at all. You’re not an inconvenience, or a regret, or anything else negative. You’ve reopened my closed off world. You’ve given me so much, I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am, or thank you for it. But I’m not fully there yet. I still have a lot to figure out and work through, and it’s not right for me to drag you into that.”
He laughs humorlessly, shaking his head like I’m not making sense. His hand comes up, rubbing up and down my spine.
“Okay, Katie,” his tone is resigned. “I get it and I can’t argue it with you, because your mind is made up on this. But you should know that I love you. That I’ll always love you, and that I want you no matter what. So if you need time, fine. Take time. But you need to understand that I plan on fighting like hell for you.”
Shit. I smile huge at that. “You’re a fucking rock star, aren’t you?”
He laughs, kissing me. “If that’s what it takes to eventually make you mine, then sure.”
Chapter 26
Kate
Our Thai food is awesome, and I have a feeling that since they deliver, Ryan is going to be eating it often. We didn’t talk about anything serious for the rest of the meal. In fact, my new best friend Luke came and met us.
A little odd? Sure, but what the hell.
Luke is…well, what can I say about Luke?
He’s a wiseass in the best sense of the word.
That and he’s hot. Not quite Ryan hot, but certainly delicious in a very different sort of way. While Ryan does the whole bearded, glasses man of mystery thing, Luke does the whole tall, dark and handsome thing. His hair and eyes are both the same chestnut brown, but the mischief in them is unmistakable.
He’s irresistible that way.
Promising all kinds of trouble that you just can’t help but say yes to.
Luke made it his personal mission to show us around not only Ryan’s new neighborhood, but he also brought us down to the famed Pike Place Market.
Super cool.
Okay, I admit it.
I’m a fan of Seattle.
I mean come on, flying fish? Who could turn that crap down? No one, that’s who. And then there’s the beautiful waterfront, and the trees, and the mountains, and the cool shops, and eclectic mix of people.
Yup, I may just love it here.
Ryan held my hand the entire afternoon, laughing and smiling and chatting easily. I was worried. I was even freaking out a bit.
I’m hoping that maybe he understands things finally.
But that whole fighting for me thing? What do I do with that?
Other than eat it up with a spoon? Because as much as I want him to have a real life and not bother wasting it on me, I want him to fight for me.
I also love the fact that Ryan has Luke.
They’re easy friends, even though the majority of their interactions are ribbing each other. But in all seriousness, I’m having the best day.
“Duchess Kate,”—Luke calls me Duchess Kate— “You seem like a rad adventure girl,” he says as we get to the city center. I can’t help but laugh, because really?
“Sure I am,” I say with a smug grin.
“Then you’ll fly up the Space Needle with me?”
“That’s an adventure? Puh--lease.”
He laughs. “Tell that to Mr. Serious over here.” He hooks his thumb at Ryan who just rolls his eyes.
“Why do you keep calling him Mr. Serious? Is that meant to be ironic?”
Both guys look at each other, but Luke is giving that smile again. The one he’s had all afternoon, and if I wasn’t in love with Ryan, it would totally make me tingle in the best of places.
It doesn’t though, FYI.
“Because those MIT boys are boring as all fuck,” Luke says. “They created lame as nicknames for each other. It was like some sort of cult, or initiation into mediocrity or something.”
Ryan snorts, pulling me in closer to his side and kissing the top of my head. “And you Cal Tech assholes really had it going on,” he says sarcastically. “Do you know what Luke’s handle was when we were in school, Katie?”
“Obviously I don’t, Ryan. I was slumming it in high school while you old ass dudes were busy playing your reindeer games.”
“Can I take her, Ryan? Please? Just for a while. I probably won’t give her back, though,” Luke says, smiling down at me with mock seduction.
Or maybe it’s real. So hard to tell with him. Damn.
“Try it, motherfucker, and watch what happens.”
“Both of you shut up. I want to ride up to the top of the Space Needle and you’re wasting my time.” I look over at Luke. “We doing this shit, or what?”
“Fuck, I’m in love,” Luke says, bringing a hand up to his chest over his heart like he’s been struck. “You should come with us, man, or I may just stick my tongue down her th
roat and call it an accident? Or not an accident? Depends on how much she’s into it,” he shrugs.
I laugh, but Ryan doesn’t. He’s too busy staring daggers into Luke, who’s smiling like the cocky bastard he is.
“Come on, baby, ride up to the top with me.” I pull on Ryan’s hand and he looks down at me. I think he likes it when I call him baby. In fact, I think it may have superpowers where he’s concerned.
He groans, but allows me to drag him along. The ride up is fast and cool, and the views of Seattle, the mountains, and the water, are unbelievable.
Ryan’s arms are wrapped around me as we walk along the globe of the observation deck.
“I’m going to miss you,” he whispers into me, and I can’t help but lean into him. Can’t help but want to soak up every single second of my time with him.
“Sometimes what you need is not what you want.” It’s really all I can offer at this point.
“Maybe. But sometimes what you want is exactly what you need. Come here.” He drags me over towards the glass window and poses us for yet another one of his selfies. He doesn’t really strike me as the type of guy who likes taking pictures of himself, or even being in them for that matter, but he takes them of us frequently.
“You guys really do make me sick,” Luke says, watching us smile for the phone. “Your cuteness is disturbing.”
I shrug. “Probably right, but what can you do?”
“Do you have a twin sister, Duchess?” Luke asks. “An identical cousin, or something like that?”
“Nope. Only child, Luke. So if you like the blonde hair, blue-eyed thing, maybe you should bounce back down to California. There were plenty when were in LA.”
“Yeah, but I don’t really like bleach and plastic. And you forget I lived there once myself. Pasadena is a bitch slap away from LA.”
I laugh. “A bitch slap? I can’t tell if that’s ironic or derogatory.”
“Could be both, Duchess Kate, could be both.” His hand reaches out, touching my waist.
“Luke, I think it’s time you get your paws off my girl and get your punk ass home, before I fire you and find another low-life, mildly talented asshole to take your place.”